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Jonah’s touch was missed when he stopped. She heard him turn on the shower, and he was there offering to help her out of the tub. “Time to come out.”
He smirked at her as he guided her to the shower. “I have to take care of something, enjoy.”
Again, the temperature was perfect.What would it feel like to have a partner treat her like this regularly?She could not remember a time a lover had taken care of her needs this way. Her shower wasn’t long. She didn’t want to wash away the effects of the bath. The moment the water shut off. Jonah was opening the glass door. She stepped into his open arms and was wrapped in a huge, plush towel. He slowly dabbed her dry.
“Your objection is noted,” Jonah informed her.
“What object—” Her words died on her lips as he picked her up into his arms. She sighed. Half in irritation and half in contentment. Hell, she might as well enjoy the gold star treatment.
ChapterSeven
What you need.
There was something to be said about going with the flow. Brontë sat on the bed in a t-shirt that she was certain probably belonged to Jonah. On another woman, it may have hung loose, but she had curves in abundance. Jonah was massaging lotion from her own line onto her legs. His hands were so firm and capable. She squirmed slightly. Moisture gathered in her core. Certainly, she had had enough for the night. Right? She was still sore. But… he was so sexy.
Teenage her would die to know she was being catered to… in every way by Jonah. She had had such a crush on him. Had hoped that they would go to prom together. The way they connected… she had expected he would take her flower. That was not meant to be…
“What’s wrong?” Jonah was entirely to perspective.
“Nothing. My mind drifted to work.”
His eyes narrowed as he inspected her. “If you say so.”
After a few moments of working, first one foot, then the other. He announced, “There. All done. Sit back and relax. I’ll be back.” Jonah disappeared into the washroom. The water was on briefly. He emerged from the bathroom just as there was a knock at the door. Then headed to the door.
Words were exchanged with someone, and he reappeared with a Cheshire Cat smile on his face, pushing a cart. “I don’t know about you, but I could use something to eat.”
The fruit had been excellent but just the mention of food had her stomach answering like someone called on it in class. “What do you have there?”
“A Lancaster Reuben sandwich, waffle fries, pickles, and ice-cold root beer.” While he spoke, he placed two plates and frosted glasses on the nightstand. Oh! He had ordered her condiments of choice, mayo, ketchup, and spicy mustard. It didn’t go without notice that those were her favourites back in the day. Still were.
“Wait, what is that?” She said, pointing to the remaining covered item.
“That?” Jonah pointed to the item and shrugged.
Laughter bubbled to the surface as she tried to maintain a stern expression.
“Something you’ll enjoy.” He took a seat beside her on the bed. “Would you like to watch something while we eat?”
They settled on an over-the-top action film. Everything was forgotten as they laughed and discussed the plot of the movie. The food was delicious, and the company was good.
“This is one of the best evenings I have had in a long time.” She sighed contently as she ate her last fry.
“Good to know. Let’s see if we can make it better.” Lifting the dome, he revealed four perfectly flaky butter tarts.
“Raisins?” Brontë asked hopefully.
Jonah barely got his response, “Of course,” out before she launched herself into his arms. He was ready and waiting as she snuggled into his protective embrace. My, but he smelled so inviting. It was thoughts like this that were dangerous. Bound to awaken feelings, she preferred to leave buried.
“Do I have to share with you?” Brontë inquired as she reluctantly pulled from his hold.
“Sharing with me… would be beneficial for us both.” His expression held so much promise. This wasn’t what she had signed up for.
Brontë took a bite of the tart, trying to push away the thought. Before she knew it, they’d finish their meal. The question was, what would they do now? She had been expecting a stranger, so she had another room booked in the hotel. Should she excuse herself and slip away? My, but this situation seemed awkward. For once in her life, she didn’t want to be the one to address the elephant in the room. Avoidance seemed an excellent tactic, as any. Especially when he straightened up by gathering and putting away the empty plates and glasses.
While Jonah took care of cleaning up, she slipped away to the washroom. She found a toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash waiting.
So thoughtful. Unease bubbled up inside. By the time they switched positions and Jonah was in the washroom and she stood in the bedroom, she was ready to do a runner. The problem was, she found herself glued to the spot.
